A compilation of 21 years of ‘field notes,’ gathered from various projects, published by JOAN with wonderful blurbs from Suzanne Walsh and Gareth Evans.
Leaning over the bed, I tilt and shake my shoes, wary that the mate of the centipede killed yesterday could still be at large. I head from the guesthouse down the wide pavement that the white-painted tree trunks separate from the road. Cloudbanks seem to lour over to the west in the gloom before dawn. Later, the smell of dough changing into bread turns me towards a large window glowing white in the darkness, swung wide open with bakers bent in steam and puffs of flour. As the sky lightens, what were once clouds become mountains fringed with old vegetation.